I. THROUGH Paradise garden A minstrel strays, An old golden viol For ever he plays. Birds fly to his head, Beasts lie at his feet, For none of God's angels Make music so sweet. And here, far from Eden, And lonely and mute, I listen and long: For my heart is the lute! II. On the topmost branch of the Tree of Life There hung a ripe red apple, The angels singing underneath All praised its crimson dapple. They plucked it once to play at ball, But 'mid the shouts and laughter The apple fell o'er Heaven's edge, Sad angels looking after. And while they smiled to see it rest Beside a peaceful chapel, An old priest flung it farther still, "Bah, what a battered apple!" III. Sing, oh the flowers in Paradise: Rose, lily and girasole! In all the fields of Paradise Every flower is a soul. A climbing bindweed you are there With petals lily-fine, Around my rose-bush pink and fair Your curling tendrils twine. Too close those slender tendrils cling, So close I cannot breathe! Till o'er my dead red roses swing, Your lilies wreath on wreath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JANUARY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ARIZONA POEMS: 2. MEXICAN QUARTER by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE HERITAGE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL A WOMAN'S ANSWER by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER THE ATLANTIDES by HENRY DAVID THOREAU |